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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23712610">In The Hours Before I Died...</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGeekySquirrel/pseuds/TheGeekySquirrel'>TheGeekySquirrel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Smoke Rises [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bad Ending, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Hurt No Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Multi, Not Beta Read, Period Typical Attitudes, Sad Ending, Supernatural Elements, WKM is not a happy story y'all, f-slur, it's only used once but watch out if you're triggered by it, this legitimately hurt to write</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:14:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,740</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23712610</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGeekySquirrel/pseuds/TheGeekySquirrel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>... this is what I thought. </p><p>My name is Gael. I'm a newly-instated District Attorney. I was the youngest person to ever receive such an honor in our city's history, as I was only 28-years-old. Or at least I was. In 1934, a good friend from my days at university invited me and three others to a poker night. We had fun, and I fell asleep in his guest bedroom. The next morning, he was dead. And I wasn't far behind. </p><p>Here's some of the thoughts I had before I died.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Abe | The Detective &amp; Y/N | The District Attorney (Who Killed Markiplier?), Damien | The Mayor &amp; Y/N | The District Attorney (Who Killed Markiplier?), Damien | The Mayor/Y/N | The District Attorney (Who Killed Markiplier?), Mark Fischbach &amp; Y/N | The District Attorney, Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel &amp; Y/N | The District Attorney</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Smoke Rises [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046776</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In The Hours Before I Died...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: The f-slur is used in this story. However, I the author am gay, the speaker is a gay man themselves, and it was the slang at the time. I don't condone homophobia nor am I encouraging it. This has been the disclaimer song.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So what were you doing at one-thirty am last night?”</p><p> </p><p>The wink threw me, but just for a second. It was smart of Abe to include. To anyone who might be watching us- Damien, the Colonel, even Benjamin- it’d be nearly invisible. But I could easily guess why it was there. I gasped sharply- natural, not too exaggerated, like Mark said- and followed the script, “Detective, I didn’t do this. I have no motivation, and I was too drunk to hold a gun by ten last night, there’s no way. Besides, I know for a fact that I was asleep at one-thirty am.”</p><p> </p><p>I left out the part where Damien helped me up the stairs, though I knew a witness would have strengthened my alibi. And the part where my old friend came in the room with me. How he’d taken off my nice leather shoes with gentle care, rubbed the soles of my feet even thought they weren’t sore, just so he had an excuse to stay. When he’d gone to fetch a glass of water from the bathroom and caught me staring after him. His teasing voice calling me<em> inappropriate, I’m your boss y’know </em> . The startled laugh Damien gifted to me when I told him he shouldn’t be so handsome then, <em> honestly, Mister Mayor, you could make any man a faggot. </em> How gently he’d kissed me before leaving for the night, taking my cigarettes with him, the damn bastard. </p><p> </p><p>Sure, Abe might be one odd fellow, perhaps something like me, but it wasn’t just us in the house. I had to be careful if I was gonna get out of here alive.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna ignore the strange fact that you sleep with your eyes open. But it checks out,” Abe said. I didn’t know how else I would’ve spent the night. </p><p> </p><p>After the dear mayor had left me, the reality of what was happening here sunk in. I watched the clock for an hour, knowing all the time that Mark… his plan was going to work. He was really going through with all this. My best friend in the world was going to fake his death to get revenge on his own brother. He was actually framing the Colonel- who, going off the night of fun they’d had, wasn’t all that bad. Really, he was awful at poker and definitely had a flair for the theatrics. But the latter seemed to run in the family. And otherwise, he really was great. I’m sorry we’ve only just met. In another life, we could have been good friends. Maybe I could have stopped the affair from happening one way or another. Maybe, if I’d met William earlier, we’d all be great friends who spend their lives together and this mess wouldn’t have started in the first place. And if even then, with someone who has an ounce of sense in the picture, things still went this poorly, maybe I’d be kneeling over a warm body instead of a cold one. Maybe I could poke Mark’s side and he’d crack an eye open to give that glint and I’d know everything will turn out okay. This is just a prank. At the end of it, he’ll take me to that place I worked at when I first moved here for the best goddamn potato soup I’ve ever had in my life. And we’d laugh about what happened here. </p><p> </p><p>I wish that were this world. But the Colonel- he’s getting framed for Mark’s death, even though I know it was an accidental suicide. Mark would never purposefully put an actual bullet in that gun. He wasn’t the type to hurt himself when times got really rough. Though he did have all those wounds. Half of ‘em should’ve killed him five times over, really. And he <em> was </em> likely the man who loaded the gun. But he’d never actually kill himself on purpose just to hurt the Colonel. That’s not Mark.</p><p> </p><p>Right?</p><p> </p><p>The detective had continued talking through my thinking. I’d caught enough of it to know I was supposed to go do some detective work while Abe stayed here. So I turned around and started looking for the first person I had to talk to. The script had said that was William- I was supposed to extract something to make him look guilty- because he’d be so wracked with guilt over murdering his little brother and best friend. But I couldn’t follow the script. We were already well off it, as much as Abe was acting otherwise. I had to find Damien. He’d never turn his back on me in a time like this. </p><p> </p><p>Right? I was starting to doubt everything. Mark’s body had planted a dangerous idea in my head and it only grew as I stumbled on a conversation I shouldn’t have been privy to. </p><p> </p><p>I’d only seen Damien that angry once before. When Mark had invited us both over months ago. He asked us if we wanted to help him work things out with William. Then he kept talking. The small bit my old friend heard was enough to send him running away from Mark, begging me to follow him like I always do.</p><p> </p><p>He though I was insane for hearing Mark out. Instead of going home, Damien had gone to my apartment, let himself in with the spare key, cooked supper, and waited for hours. The food was cold by the time I walked in. My mayor had been this angry, but he hadn’t yelled. Hearing it now, I wish he had. The withheld anger in his voice at Mark was terrifying. He said he was terrified for me. I don’t know which one of us was more scared at the moment, nor which one of us felt weirder about how robotically we went about our usual routine afterward, even when the lights turned off and we could enjoy the warmth of my comforter. Yet time continued to march on and I kept loving him just as I do now. He catches me listening to that anger on his way out, but the fire behind it was left behind. Damien just squeezes by, touching my arm as he goes. He taps the silver end of his cane- I remember how hard he’d kissed me when I gave it to him, my wonderful Damien- on the small of my back and I’m confused all over again. He only does that when I’m about to talk to someone especially vicious or he thinks a case is too dangerous for me to take or-</p><p> </p><p>It’s a warning. He doesn’t want me to talk to the Colonel. </p><p> </p><p>I want to reach out. Grab him and shake him until he tells me why I shouldn’t trust William, <em> you know him better than I do, for God’s sake, please! Tell me what’s wrong! I trust you, Damien, but I have to know! </em> My hand flicks at him. He’s already too far out of reach; I’d have to give chase. I just keep looking for the puzzle pieces. Damien sighs heavily behind me- he was watching my back. Sweet of him, even if I don’t need it. It’s not like the Colonel’s gonna shoot me in the heart or anything like that. </p><p> </p><p>So I pressed on. The weekend unraveled. The fucking body goes missing, which was part of the plan, true, but not like this. Things keep getting worse and worse. Damien tries to comfort me, but his theories are making this worse. I nearly kiss him to make him shut up when two men start trying to kill each other, and then fucking Celine shows up. I don’t know what kind of weird spell she put me under so I can see the clues coming together the way I do, but it’s enough that I feel dead. Then he’s gone and I am nothing. Everyone starts running. </p><p> </p><p>I can’t. Benjamin tries to convince me to leave, but I can’t go anymore. He knows that. He was one of three, now two living souls who knew the truth about what I’d just lost. </p><p> </p><p>“There’s only death here now,” he says as he runs away. I scoff at the notion. What can he know of death? </p><p> </p><p>When Celine asks me to help, I can feel the coldness of whatever magic she’s using run down my back. I resisted it last time. Now I can only embrace the cold numbness of it. My pain is dulled, set aside for future worries. Something else is in my body with me. I can feel it take me around the manor, but I don’t care enough to stop it anymore. Words spoken only recently are jumbled in my head. Like they’re being used by something else. It wants to show me something important. So when it tells me to go into this strange office first, I go first. </p><p> </p><p>It’s Abe. He found out as much as he could on all of us and kept digging. I learn in this office that I was wrong about how many living souls know what I’ve lost. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t just myself and Benjamin. </p><p> </p><p>William comes in. He’s half-crazed upon seeing me and gets worse quickly. I have no choice but to follow as he searches for Abe- it’s controlling me again, there’s something else I need to see. It doesn’t have to, but it must. It can’t have me running away now. Not when the pieces are finally coming together. </p><p> </p><p>I find out it was right to control me, to keep me in place just long enough for- BANG! Everything’s gone. This isn’t the plan, it hasn't been since the body was thrown over the railings. I should have stopped this. Benjamin was wrong earlier. Death didn’t come here just now and it certainly isn’t alone. It’s been here all along, with madness tied into it. Whatever held me helpless to stop this releases me as Abe crumples against the wall and I slingshot into William. I grab the gun and once again, it goes off. This time, my hands fly to the spot just underneath my rib cage and come back bloody. </p><p> </p><p>I remember my last words. It came out as a hoarse, bloody whisper, right before I fell. I don’t know if William heard it. I didn’t hear it myself. But it was my last thought and, as it turns out, you never forget your last thought as a mortal man.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m dead.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading! I'm working on a sequel to my first WKM fic at the moment, but I thought a one-shot character study would be good to put out in the meantime. This is one of the first fics I wrote about Gael when I was still developing their character. I didn't even have a name for them at this point (the description was written for this posting). Hope y'all enjoyed a look at what Gael was going through during the videos and a bit of a spoiler for the fic I have in the works ;)<br/>Also, wanna say real quick that the response I got to my first WKM fic featuring Gael was pretty positive! I'm so glad y'all liked them, and I do hope you liked them here. They're so much fun to write! I know I gave them a downer ending here, but WKM doesn't have a happy ending for the DA. In my canon, they're in the mirror for eighty years to the day. So, yeah, it's major feels. </p><p>If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a kudos or a comment! They mean so much to me! Stay inside and have a good day, everyone!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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